


Just Friends

by lesdemonium (winnerstick), winnerstick



Series: Romtober 2020 [10]
Category: The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: 5+1 Things, Canon Era, Getting Together, Idiots in Love, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:08:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26933386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winnerstick/pseuds/lesdemonium, https://archiveofourown.org/users/winnerstick/pseuds/winnerstick
Summary: Geralt can't seem to understand why everyone thinks he and Jaskier are acouple.5+1 times Geralt and Jaskier were mistaken for being in love.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Romtober 2020 [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949827
Comments: 58
Kudos: 868





	Just Friends

**Author's Note:**

> CW: mild & implied homophobia. If you want to avoid it entirely you can, just skip scene 2: Alderman.

_**1\. Shopkeeper** _

“A flower, for your sweet?”

Geralt eyed the flower in the shopkeeper’s hand suspiciously. It was pretty; a simple pink carnation. Not what Geralt expected to find at an apothecary shop. He glanced at the shopkeeper holding it out to him, and though he expected to find something guarded in her expression, he found nothing. Just the kind smile of what he assumed was a sweet old woman. She held the flower out just a bit closer to Geralt, looking at him expectantly.

“Oh, I don’t--”

“It would look nice in his hair, don’t you think?” the woman continued. She gestured just past Geralt, and he turned to see Jaskier, fiddling with some glass vials in the corner.

“Geralt, are these big enough?” Jaskier asked when he noticed Geralt’s attention on him. 

Jaskier seemed not to notice the shopkeeper’s attention, either, or the flower, for that matter. Geralt didn’t want to call attention to it, so he gave Jaskier a terse nod, then turned back to the shopkeeper.

“No, thank you,” Geralt said, instead shoving a potion toward her. “Just this, and the vial.”

She looked at him curiously, but obligingly put the flower away. When Jaskier came to stand by Geralt--frustratingly close, Geralt now realized--it was as if nothing had happened.

_**2\. Alderman** _

The alderman’s eyes were dark the moment he set eyes on Geralt.

Geralt braced himself, more than well aware of what a look like that meant. Even if there was a monster in this town--and, according to the people who had pointed him in the direction of the tavern to find the alderman--this man was not going to be easy to deal with. He had already decided he didn’t like Witchers, and Geralt was more than prepared to deal with not only his bigotry, but with Jaskier’s likely reaction to his bigotry.

“Jaskier,” he said to his companion, and placed a hand on Jaskier’s shoulder. He turned Jaskier toward a table and nudged him into sitting, while Jaskier looked at Geralt curiously. “Stay here. I’ll talk to him alone.”

“But Geralt--”

“Stay here,” Geralt insisted, then walked away to avoid further argument.

As he turned back to the alderman, Geralt noticed his expression had darkened even further. Now he was eyeing Geralt as if Geralt was a threat to him. Well, people like this often thought Geralt was, so it wasn’t entirely surprising.

“I hear there’s a contract on a harpy,” Geralt said as he sat heavily on the seat opposite the man.

The alderman picked up his tankard of ale, and for a long moment, all he did was eye Geralt. “There is,” he said, then bent over to his side and produced a large bag of coins. “This enough for payment?”

Geralt lifted the bag. It was surprisingly full. Apparently, the problem was big enough that it was worth subjecting himself to paying a witcher a decent price. Geralt nodded his head, then handed the purse back.

“Just kill the monster, Witcher. We don’t care much for  _ your kind _ around here.” And then, surprisingly, he nodded to  _ Jaskier _ .

Geralt turned to look at his companion, who he assumed was causing some sort of trouble. Surely, he was flirting with the alderman’s wife or someone’s daughter. Instead, Geralt saw Jaskier just sitting there, thumbnail between his teeth, as he scratched some words onto the parchment before him. When Geralt looked at him, Jaskier looked back, and a smile stretched out behind his thumb.

“Our kind?” Geralt asked, turning back to the alderman with an eyebrow raised.

“Just keep your distance from each other, and we’ll be fine. And leave soon as you can.” The alderman’s arms crossed tightly over his chest and he glowered at Geralt. 

Ah. Not the type of bigotry Geralt was prepared for. It made hot anger unfurl in his chest and he had half a mind to tell this man to go fuck himself. Geralt glanced back at Jaskier, now wondering at what had even led this man to come to that conclusion, and found it didn’t much matter.

He killed the harpy and took the man’s coin, but dumped the bloodied head on the floor of his home. Whatever Geralt had might be catching, after all. Wouldn’t want to risk the poor, delicate man.

_**3\. Yennefer** _

“I see you two are still traveling together.”

Geralt glanced from Yennefer to Jaskier, who was over by Roach. He tried to make himself look busy, but Geralt could see that largely he was just weaving flowers into her mane. Geralt suppressed a smile; later, Jaskier would admonish Roach for eating the flowers as they fell, as if that hadn’t been his entire intention.

When Yennefer had shown up, Jaskier clammed up. They had traded a few barbs and Yennefer had come out as the clear winner, as she often did, and Jaskier had been sulking ever since. He was keeping his distance from both Geralt and Yennefer now, though Geralt caught the forlorn looks he tried to sneak every so often. Geralt, for his part, had moved his conversation with Yennefer far away from Jaskier to give him the space he clearly wanted; anything to help improve the foul mood he would likely deal with for the remainder of the day.

Geralt looked back to Yennefer and grunted. He didn’t like the look in her eye as she made the comment, or the fact that they had already finished their business, and yet she was still here, making conversation. Neither the look nor her continued presence was a comforting sign. Geralt had to be careful about how he answered her questions.

Yennefer watched him a moment longer, then sighed.

“Are you ever going to  _ tell me _ ?” she asked, her face twisting into disappointment. “Or are you both just going to pretend that we don’t all  _ know _ ?”

“Know what?” Geralt asked. His eyebrows furrowed.

Yennefer waved her hand impatiently. “You know! About you both. About how you  _ feel _ for the other--” She cut herself off, then peered at Geralt a little closer, inspecting his face. “You don’t know?” Then her eyes moved to Jaskier, who was now locked in an intense discussion with Roach about something or other. “Neither one of you know, do you?”

“Know  _ what _ ?” Geralt repeated, a bit impatient now.

“Oh, no. This is far better than I ever would have imagined.” Yennefer laughed and shook her head. “Please tell me when you figure it out. I will portal here immediately if only to see the look on your face.”

She refused to explain further, and even made her way back to the camp just to press further into Jaskier’s poor mood. It seemed to only fill Yennefer with glee, as she was laughing when she left them.

“What the hell was that about?” Jaskier asked.

Geralt wished he could answer that question.

_**4\. Innkeeper** _

“Just the one room?” The innkeeper asked, sounding bored.

“Is there only one room available?” Geralt asked, and just barely held back the sigh. 

They weren’t low on coin this time. Maybe Jaskier would  _ like _ to have his own room for the night. He was too far away to ask; already he was trying to flirt his way into a free meal in exchange for his performance from the innkeeper’s wife. The patrons had perked up a bit when they saw Jaskier’s lute case; it was likely he’d make a fair bit tonight as well. They could splurge.

“No,” the innkeeper answered. “You have your choice of rooms. Haven’t had much travelers lately. Did you and your partner have someone else with you?”

The innkeeper nodded his head toward Jaskier, and Geralt’s eyes followed. Jaskier was getting his way, if the charming look on his face was anything to go by. His eyelids fluttered, and Geralt found himself momentarily distracted by the way his dark eyelashes fluttered against his pale cheeks.

It took Geralt a moment to realize the  _ meaning _ the innkeeper imbued the word “partner” with. Another person thought Jaskier was his lover. It wasn’t an unpleasant thought. A confusing one, to be sure, as Geralt was sure they had done nothing to make anyone think so. Though, he had been wrong many, many times before about this very thing.

They had the money for another room. The room was available. He and Jaskier could sleep separately and have a little personal space from each other for once, and still have enough coin to get them a hot meal and through to the next town.

“No, no one else,” Geralt said, turning back to the innkeeper. “One room.”

_**5\. Ciri** _

“You know you don’t have to be careful around me, right?” Ciri asked.

Geralt looked up from the rabbit he was skinning, only to be met with Ciri’s keen eyes. What, exactly, it was that she saw that Geralt hadn’t yet, he wasn’t sure. He raised an eyebrow at her, then went back to his task.

“Be careful how?” he asked. “Are you saying you want more work?”

Ciri groaned. “No, the training and getting the firewood and learning how to hunt and  _ everything _ is enough, thank you,” she answered, sounding just a little petulant. As if she hadn’t been teasing Geralt earlier about not being able to keep up because he was an old man. Maybe he  _ would _ throw a few extra drills at her. “I mean about you and Jaskier.”

Geralt’s hand slowed, just slightly, as he considered this. “What about me and Jaskier?” he asked. 

He lifted his head to look at Jaskier, who was off bathing in a nearby stream after complaining for  _ hours _ about how he had gotten covered in mud when a carriage rolled past. Even his face had been splattered, while Ciri and Geralt had managed to avoid the worst of it by sheer luck. Geralt had told him that if he would  _ stop complaining and go bathe _ , then Geralt would catch  _ three _ rabbits tonight. Jaskier had agreed, and didn’t even complain about how frigid the water would be. Not yet, anyway. Geralt was sure that was coming.

“That you’re… you know.” Geralt glanced at her in time to see her gesture… something. It mostly looked like she was pushing something invisible in Jaskier’s direction. “That you… love him.”

Geralt stared at her, baffled, for a long moment. “Ciri, we’re not-- Jaskier and I aren’t--”

“I’m just saying,” Ciri interrupted, “that you two don’t have to hide anything from me. If you love each other, that’s okay.”

She stood, abruptly, and set about setting up her bedroll. She didn’t need to do it now, usually she waited until after they had eaten, but Geralt understood the message there. Cirilla did not want to discuss this further. That was fine by Geralt, who also did not want to discuss this further.

That didn’t mean he was done thinking about it, though. He glanced back at Jaskier, who was now cupping water and pouring it over his head, then running his fingers through the strands. Geralt didn’t have to imagine how soft his hair would be now--he knew, he had washed Jaskier’s hair before. The only reason he wasn’t doing it now was because Jaskier had annoyed him enough that Geralt refused to help him remove the mud. He found, in a distant sort of way, that he regretted that decision.

Jaskier came back just as Geralt was pulling the last rabbit off the fire. He took the meat from Geralt with a grateful smile, then settled close beside Geralt to eat.

“That water was  _ freezing.  _ I’m surprised I still have all my limbs attached. We might need a larger fire, Geralt, because if I do not warm my legs  _ soon _ , I fear I will lose them.”

_**+1 Priestess** _

“Would you like to leap the flames?”

The Priestess’s eyes were wide and Geralt, for once, found it to be welcoming, rather than with curiosity or fear. She looked young, but it was impossible to truly tell how old she was. The priestess motioned toward both Geralt and Jaskier.

“It’s a Belleteyn tradition. You leap over the bonfire for luck or fertility. If you leap as a couple, it is supposed to grant you luck in your relationship. New lovers often partake in this tradition, and guests are welcome as well.” She smiled, then, and gestured broadly to the bonfire. “Care to see if luck smiles down on you?”

“Oh, we’re not--” Jaskier started, but stopped when Geralt touched his wrist. Lightly, so lightly, just enough to get his attention. Jaskier turned to look at him, his expression curious.

“Do you want to?” Geralt asked. His heart pounded in his chest and as soon as the words left his lips, his mouth felt dry. 

Jaskier considered him a moment, and all along Geralt felt the dread rise in him like bile to his throat. But then Jaskier’s face split into a wide grin and he took Geralt’s hand, their fingers slotting together as if that was where they meant to be all along.

They stood together and lined up behind another couple and just as they were about to take their own turn, Jaskier pulled Geralt to the side, out of the line, and motioned for the man behind them to go.

“Geralt you--you mean this, right? Exactly as the priestess said?” Jaskier asked, and though their hands stayed pressed together, doubt crept into his voice.

“Exactly as the priestess said,” Geralt agreed, nodding. “We’ve been mistaken for a couple enough times. They might as well be right for once.”

“We’ve been--what? What do you mean?” Jaskier asked.

Instead of answering, Geralt pulled them back in front of the bonfire, and prepped to run.

“Geralt, if you do not explain--”

“You better get ready to run, Jaskier.”


End file.
